The Clinic's Therapy
by Eternal Contradiction
Summary: Relena and Heero are being chased through the streets of L1 by a pack of blood-thirsty reporters. How will they get rid of them all? humour/citrus


The Clinic's Therapy 

I couldn't believe those jackasses were after me again.   Heero of course, being the only person with a semi-intelligent brain in the vicinity was trying to help me.    He certainly is about as much help as a ten-ton truck parked on my foot.   Mr. Smartass thought if he shot at them it would all go away, like a bad dream he has just awoke from.   Mr. Smartass was currently running his bony behind off beside me.   Thank god he was in jeans and not spandex, I could not begin to imagine the wedgie that would give someone.    I had first thought that was what was up his butt when we first met… I was wrong; he naturally acts like something's jammed real far up his rear.

Of course I'm grumpy, it's eleven o'clock at night and I'm being chased through the slippery streets of L1 with a pack of bloodthirsty wolves on my tail.   When it had started an hour ago we had just came out of some fast-food restaurant we had went in to appease our incredible appetites.   Or in other words we went in because Duo had hauled us in.   The last thing I wanted to do at ten pm was eat greasy foods.

Quatre had ordered some special Duo had suggested, when we had left he was meeting his friend the toilet, undisputed flushing queen of the sewers.  Duo, Hilde, Heero and I had went out to find something to settle our friend's stomach when a group of people all dressed in black came running out of the shadows.    

Heero had shot at them, glass shattered and sprinkled over the icy road, blending in with shards of frozen snow.    In the dark we couldn't tell how many of them there were.    My first thought was that they were going to rob us, or try to kidnap me, any thoughts a person in my position would think when a troop of ebony dressed folks came running at you from the shadows.

Then came the questions and comments.

"It's Relena, smile princess."

"How is married life treating you?"

"Is it true you married because there's a bun in your oven?"

"Would that be why you're at a restaurant like this at this time at night?"

"What's your favorite color, what's your husband's favorite color, what's the baby's favorite color?"

I am NOT pregnant, just to make you all clear on that.   A pregnant woman would not be able to run for an hour like I am doing now.

"It's the pop and cheese pizza!"   I heard Duo yell from behind me.    He meant the paparazzi, I would think.

"Miss Relena is this couple your husband and your secret lovers?"

 "Is that man the actual father of your baby?"

Is it just me or are these questions getting crazier and stupiditer?   Yes I realize that isn't even a word, it just seemed to make sense in this atmosphere.   

"Oh my God!    You're Relena Dorlian Peacecraft Yuy!    I'm your greatest fan, can I have your autograph?"   Duo saved the day again by his ingenious lying skills.   He turned to Heero.   "Can I have your autograph too?   I mean you married my idol, you're my idol too dude!"

At this time Heero and I took off running, I could tell he had no clue where we were going.    The press was right in out heels, snapping out their questions.    Some even were driving in their ugly little media vans.    

The first one we lost was a pleasant looking little old woman.   It was too bad because she would probably ask the most realistic questions, of course appearances can be deceiving.

Heero and I then ran into an ally.   We then lost the minivans, although most of the reporters in them followed on foot.   One driver was so intent on filming us that he ran into all the other minivans and pushed the front one into a wall.   You would think having their stupid vans crunched together would get the media off of our backs, but no, now they were out for revenge.   How did I get myself in to these things? 

Then some muscle man carrying three large cameras tripped over a little guy with a small camcorder.    They both rolled down the slippery sidewalk, a tangle of limbs and camera equipment, until they came to a halt in front of a large garbage dumpster.    The force of their landing made the dumpster fall over on to them.

We ran by a police car, the cop in it was eating a big jelly filled donut.   It dribbled down the front of his uniform as a swarm of people ran after us.   He started his car and the siren and pulled out of Tim Horton's as one of the media vans came cantering down the road.    It had a half flat tire, crushed in bumper, and was zigzagging all over the street.    The van crashed into the cop car while going 30 mph, the damage was minimal to both cars, but one more reporter lost the race. 

The reporters were still panting after us as we ran through the slippery streets.  Heero and I took a sharp left (or right, I'm running to fast to tell,) we barely avoided slipping into a busy street.  A couple of the journalists skidded on some ice and slipped through the intersection.

Their screams will haunt me for the rest of my life.

So will Heero's yell of fury as one of the more brazen reporters tried to tackle him.    All she got was a handle full of his baggy jeans, bet he wished he had worn the spandex.    His jeans stayed behind with the little hussy and he continued to run in his boxers with little hotdogs on them.   That's right, I said hotdogs, and I believe I see buns too, and I don't mean his incredibly hot butt. 

Shutters clicked.   Flashes went.   Some poor driver was blinded by the light and drove right through the group of reporters.    As they scattered Heero and I picked up our speed a bit more.   

I am now thanking god for all those hours Heero made me run laps.   So I would be prepared he said.    I had told him at the time where he could stick his preparation, that is if he had room. 

We had now been running for forty-five minutes.    One of the reporter's toupee slipped over his eyes and he ran into a telephone pole.   There were only three of us now, Heero, me and some guy I recognized from the Olympics who was carrying a camera that said CNN.    Everyone knows they never give up until they have the scoop they wanted, and this guy was a national known Olympic runner.   We were going to be beaten.    I think Heero knew this and wouldn't accept it; he sped up again.

Is my husband some kind of robot?   I'm getting unbelievably tired, and an image of him picking me up in a fireman's hold and continuing to run, even speeding up, kept flashing through my head.    So it was CNN guy and us, both of us needing to win. At least I had the perfect soldier on my side and CNN dude was carrying a camera and a mic.

We rounded a corner at breakneck speed.   A man was coming out of a building right next to us.    Heero lunged and caught the door before it closed.    We ducked inside just as the CNN hound-dog ran around the corner.    Heero locked the door and peered through the window.

"What do we do now?"   I asked my handsome spouse.

"We wait."

I looked at a huge glowing sign above the secretary's desk.   L1 SEX CLINIC.    Well this day was just getting better.    Heero looked at the sign nonchalantly, even though I thought I saw his eyes do a double take.

There were various signs around the room, some of them depicted sex scenes that looked quite unsafe to me, but what do I know, I'm a newlywed.   I stop in front of one of them, I swear I saw this one in cosmo magazine.    It was called the 360 turn, or something like that, looked stressful to me.

Heero came up behind me and looked at the poster over my shoulder.    His arms snaked around my waist.    I could almost guess what he was thinking.    I know for a fact that this environment was giving me ideas too.    

He buried his face in my silky blonde hair.    I could feel him breathing against the base of my neck.   In, out, in, out, matching his breathing with mine.    We were still breathing hard from running for almost an hour.

I lifted my head and met his lips with my own.    I brought my arm back and snaked it around his neck.   He forced his tongue into my mouth as the kiss deepened.    I turned around so we were facing each other, our bodies meshed together as if they were made to be joined.    I would like to think they were.   

He kept walking me backwards until my back was against the secretarial desk.   I leaned back so I was half lying on it.    He pulled me up and lifted me on to the desk, which was much more comfortable, nothing digging into my back.

I wrapped my long legs around his waist, close but not close enough to be satisfying.   I slid my fingers into his dark brown hair and pulled him nearer to me.    He ran butterfly kisses down my collarbone and back up to my mouth.    Talking about butterflies, I was currently feeling them in my stomach.    He excites me so much. 

His right hand ran up my thigh until he reached my underwear.   Was I ever thankful I hadn't worn the grandma ones this morning.  I was now running one of my hands up and down his back while the other one was playing with his hair.   His left hand found it's way under my blouse.   I could feel it make its way up my ribcage to my breast; his lips were still on mine.   My heartbeat had sped up so much I thought I was going to faint.   I knew this was nothing compared to the excitement I would later feel if this continued.

I don't know when he had discarded my blouse, but I could now feel the coolness from the temperature outdoors, seeping through the walls like only cold air can.   I rested my chin on his shoulder as we both tried to catch our breaths and I tried to bring his top up over his head so all he was wearing was his hotdog boxers.

I don't know why I started to laugh, it just happened.   He pulled back and looked in my eyes.   The crazy thing was, he started to laugh along with me.   It was a strange, rough sound like he hadn't used that part of his vocal cords in a while.   I don't think he every used them, so I guess he's fortunate a sound even came out.

"I'm sorry, it's just too much. *giggle*  All those reporters terrorizing us, doing this in a sex clinic, your boxers." 

He looked down at his boxers.   "Gag gift from Duo, nothing else was clean."

"I love you Heero." I said as I pressed my head against his chest and concentrated on matching my breathing to his.

"I love you too, koi suru."

We stayed like that for a while until I finally jumped down from the desk to find my top.

Heero pealed off a pamphlet that was stuck on my rear.   I read it over his shoulder, and I couldn't help but laugh.

_Have you ever just been caught up in the moment?  _

I rested my hand on my husband's shoulder, can't say that I have.

_Been caught off guard by some beguiling member of the opposite sex?_

I slapped Heero's hotdog covered tushie, beguiling, hmmmm.

_Make sure to always use protection._

"At least we have hotdogs, you weenie."

_It could prevent a life._

Or loss of one, like when overprotective brothers find out.   That reminds me, I should inform him of my wedding.   I guess that's not as funny of a joke I thought it was, Milliardo knows, he was the one who gave me away. (Although it was very reluctant, and he was so busy glaring at Heero he tripped over the train of my dress and landed on Wufei and Sally's laps.)

_Only 99% effective._

It was smart to put that in the advertisement, everyone usually just skips to the small print anyways.    Either that or whoever wrote this is incredibly stupid.

_Next time that urge takes over, just say no to sex._

 I thought they were supposed to be selling the product, not making us say no to it.   Like a condom could tell a guy to say no to sex.

_And remember, abstinence isn't the safest way, we are._

No matter how hard I try, I just can't figure out how anything is safer than no sex at all.   A guy must gave wrote this.

_Brought to you by Duo's condoms… in all flavours._

Flavours?    I refuse to have something smelling like a banana stuck up me.    I have a weird thought about it being bad enough that _it_ slightly resembles one.    I know it's not accurate, but I can't help the thoughts that go through my head.

_New flavour, Pina Colada._

Trying to get me drunk now are you?

Oh the ironies in life, of all the pamphlets in this whole place, that one had to be the one we almost did it on.   It was as if the God of Death himself was working against us, I know I felt like dying at this moment.

The restaurant, the underwear, and now this pamphlet, reminders are everywhere.

In the underworld the God of Death winked and blew a kiss to his favorite couple, (not including his earth form and Hilde) a kiss to the world, and a kiss to the colonies.   How fun it is to torture people.

\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/\/0\/0\/

Konnichiwa minna-sama, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.   I have to thank my best friend for convincing me to write this.

If you liked this story, why not read my other ones: 

The Preventor's Grapevine (GW)

This Is Not My Day (GW)

Must I Kill You? (GW)

Clow Tablets; A Journey Around The World (CCS)

Shadow Man, The Dawn (CCS)

While you're at it, why not review.  


End file.
